Mission Room Confessions
by Calimetaure
Summary: [ONE-SHOT] ::WKxSM:: Pure, unadulterated, uncut, SAP and OOC. Nothin' but sap and OOCness, created by my overly-tired, hyper active, imagination. You have been warned.


Ohayo, minna-san. It's 2:00 am, I'm hyper, bored and tired. I wrote this. I own nothing.  
Well, maybe a pair of socks and a t-shirt full of holes. Don't sue unless you *want* these old  
socks and t-shirt full of holes. Arigatou! ^-^  
  
~~~~~~~~~  
blablabla = memories; blablabla = thoughts  
~~~~~~~~~  
**********  
  
Gulp  
  
Makoto shifted nervously in her seat. She could imagine his eyes boring flaming holes through  
the cover of the old leather bound book she held in front of her face.  
Oh kamisama. He must still be pissed about yesterday. she thought and squirmed in her  
chair some more.  
  
Well, it hadn't been her fault ... not really, anyway. It wasn't like she knew that *he* knew  
English.  
Eh. He did look cute when he was flustered, Makoto smirked a little.  
  
She sighed a little, that wasn't going to do her any good now. Now they were sitting in the  
mission room, the blank TV screen staring back at them. It was the weekend, so everybody was out  
somewhere, everyone except herself and the glaring boy in front of her. He had dragged her down  
here early in the morning and sat her down, then hadn't done anything, just sat there and stared  
at her.  
Well, that's the bright side. He hasn't tried anything. None of his death threats, he  
hasn't tried to chop of my hair, hasn't started chanting 'Kino Makoto! Shine!' ... just glared at  
me she admonished herself.  
  
Thinking about that, the girl sweatdropped. This was the mission room! Hell, they had had to  
tramp down three flights of stairs just to get to the spiral staircase that led down here. Any  
sound was muffled, those damn doors were about a foot thick, and nobody except Weiß and Manx or  
Birman was allowed down here. She peered cautiously over the top of the old book.  
EEP!!  
  
She just as quickly lowered her eyes. Those deep violet ones had met hers, and scared her to  
death.  
I am dead! They'll never find my body and, and it'll be weeks before he mentions  
something to somebody, or maybe they'll smell it first ...   
  
Makoto dared another peek at Aya. This time the boy was staring at the TV screen. The bit of  
light from the dimmed light bulb gave his sharp features a supernatural glow and made his hair  
seem a ruby red, not auburn. She pictured the blush that crossed his face again and giggled in  
spite of her situation. Then she nearly choked as the noise brought Aya's full attention to her  
again. It was strange, the red-head didn't seem all that sulky, as he might normally have been.  
Makoto's back started aching, signaling that she had been sitting in one position for too long.  
Hoping to look casual, she stretched, wincing at the cracking noise she heard from her back.  
After settling back into her chair she yawned.  
BORING!!! Argh. I was gonna play soccer with Ken, or go out with Yoji, demo iiiieeee. He  
just HAD to drag me here, then sit me down and watch me do NOTHING!!!  
  
Trying desperatly to get comfortable, the girl began to ponder the true mysteries of life. For  
example, how the hell did Usagi manage to eat and eat, yet never gain an ounce? Where exactly  
did the henshin wands go to when not in use? Or Ami's hair, was it really blue? How did Omi  
stay so damned genki, even in the ungodly hours of the morning? And how did Yohji sleep with so  
many women, but never get a sexually tansmitted disease?  
"Makoto."  
  
The single word brought Makoto back to reality. She looked over at Aya and grinned widely,  
however nervously.  
"Saa, the great Fujimiya Aya talks, eh?"  
  
Then she froze. His intense eyes bored holes through her. Briefly she wondered if she could  
just run out the door, screaming her head off. Then again, this was Fujimiya Aya, the flower  
selling, stone cold, katana wielding bringer of death, and fastest damn person she'd ever met.  
He'd probably kill her before she got two feet passed him.  
"Makoto," he said again.  
  
This time he motioned with a finger for her to come to him. The girl stood up and slowly  
shuffled over, keeping an eye on the nearest door in hopes of making some narrow escape. But  
that idea was just as quickly squashed when Aya pointed to the seat right in front of him.  
Warily, Makoto leaned against the table, half sitting on it, half not. Suddenly, Aya stepped in  
close to her. His hands, freakishly gentle, cupped her face and his eyes stared into hers.  
Makoto looked deep into his own, not being able to look away.  
What is he looking for? Is he trying to find something? she wondered.  
  
For once, Makoto allowed herself to forget that she had ever met Sempai and looked to her hearts'  
content. Aya's fine red hair and ear tails, which always stayed in place no matter what. She  
imagined him brushing five gallons of jel into his hari every morning. The mental picture amused  
her so, that she snorted softly and her lips quirked upwards. She was forced to draw a deep  
breath as Aya's ... Glare? Intensly unnerving stare? ... was focused on her lips. She still  
focused her attention on his eyes and her breathing grew ragged as the boy's look changed from  
looking for something to something else. Something, distinctly ... hungry and preditory.  
"Close your eyes," he said.  
  
It was said softly enough, Aya was never one to talk, but she had never heard even Sempai say  
something with such ... undertones. She obeyed and waited for the results. She felt Aya's hands  
grip her face and whimpered softly ... which was swallowed as Aya's mouth settled protectively  
and possesively over hers. She leaned into the kiss dizzily, thinking Hn. Must be some last-  
wish-for-the-soon-to-be-dead, thing and a memory brushed the back of her mind.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
It's hot. Too hot. Iie, it's COLD! Iie, hot. Iie, cold. Argh, I don't know anymore!  
A light touch on her lips. Confused, she turned away from it, but it followed her. Something  
cooled her forehead. It felt so good, she gave in and let it stay.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Makoto shook her head to clear it.  
What's this?  
  
Aya paused and opened his eyes to watch the slim girl beneath him. Could she remember? The boy  
smirked, it didn't matter now. He pulled his hands away from the girl's face and lightly ran  
them down the length of her long arms. That caused the girl to shiver and press closer to him.  
What have we here? Hn, omoshiroi.  
  
He ran his fingers up her arms this time, then around to the back of her neck. He slowly began  
to massage the area, moving his fingers gently, almost as if trying to locate something with her  
permission. Makoto leaned in even closer to the sturdy presence of warmth in front of her. She  
sighed into Aya's mouth when he began to massage her back. The red-head's mouth never parted  
from hers.  
Ah well, now at least when I die I'll die a happy woman.  
  
Aya could feel Makoto go limp in his arms, almost literaly melting into him.  
Mental note to self: Makoto really likes these massages, he filed that fact away,  
something for them to do when they had the time.  
  
Yeah, nobody was allowed down here and the others were gone, but the couch and the bear floor  
wasn't the best place for what he had planned for the two of them. Something else was triggered  
in Makoto's memory.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
The feather light touch was cool against her burning skin. Shimatte, she was thirsty! In a  
cracking voice, she could only manage the words, "Mizu? Onegai."  
Who's ever hands those were lifted her and pressed something cold to her lips which she drank,  
gratefully. A calming hand gently moved over the small of her back.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Now the hands that massaged her back gently, incredibly enough Aya's hands, reminded Makoto of  
when she had been sick from something and the feverish dreams she'd had. In one, a figure had  
stayed by her and soothed and cared for her.  
No way ... not Fujimiya-Ore-wa-Kori-Otoko-Aya. she frowned.  
  
But then, Aya had been there. Could it have been him? Aya broke apart from the kiss slowly and  
looked down at the girl, narrowing his eyes. He saw the girl frown slightly. Aya blinked, was  
he doing something wrong? He itched to pick up a book and read into the subject, but no, it was  
something else that was bothering her. Makoto made some muffled sound of protest and pressed  
closer to him, snugly fitting her body into his. Her lips sought his.  
Well, she's not frowning over anything I'm doing. Could she remeber that night?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
He had come back from his mission to find his partner shivering and moaning on the floor. She  
had declined the mission because she hadn't felt well, but it had been a shock, to say the least.  
He used his medical knowledge and tried to help through the night. Who'd have known that nursing  
was so ... intimate? He couldn't help but run his fingers over her tempting lips and moving his  
hands over the sweak soaked skin. Her hair had pretty much fallen out of the pony tail and fell  
in waves around her face. Aya knew the fever wasn't too serious, though it wouldn't feel like  
that to the sick girl, but he couldn't resist touching Makoto to reassure himself of that.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Again, Aya smirked. He couldn't resist it. He leaned down by Makoto's ear.  
"Do you remember?" he whispered.  
  
Makoto blinked her eyes open and found herself cheek to cheek with Aya.  
Kamisama! That dream! "Uh ... remember what?" she whispered back.  
  
Aya moved his face back and placed a feather light kiss on Makoto's forehead. "Kore ... "  
Makoto's eyes widened and she gaped at Aya's neck, not having a proper face to gape at.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
It was just after dawn, Makoto's fever was finally receding. She opened her eyes, squinted  
against the bright sunlight that bombarded her vision and tried to make out who the figure was  
that stood over her. The figure moved to block the path of the light, then bent down and placed  
a feather light kiss on her still warm forehead. Drowsily, Makoto blinked, then closed her eyes  
and fell asleep thinking what a nice dream it had been.  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Well whaddya know? Apparently, it WAS Aya. Makoto stood dumbfounded in the boy's arms. Now  
this was ... interesting? Unexpected? Shocking?  
Who'm I kidding? This is the weirdest thing that I've had happen to me since I had a  
crush on an AILEN! she thought. Heh, who'd a thought? The great rock known as Fujimiya Aya has  
maternal instincts!  
  
She giggled.  
And giggled again.  
And one more time for good measure.  
Ok, now she was begining to get hysterical.  
Pull yourself together, girl. You're the female equivalent of death, and death doesn't  
giggle! she mentally rapremanded herself.  
  
Aya scowled at the girl in his arms. He could detect a muffled sound, suspiciously giggle like,  
coming from her. He grunted a little and held the girl more securly in his arms. It felt so  
right to hold her like this, even if they had met through an argument and both declared their  
mutual dislike of the other. Makoto leaned into him more, getting comfortable.  
"Aya-kun ... "  
"Ran."  
"Nani?"  
"My real name is Ran."  
"Ran ... Ran-kun ... I like it."  
  
~Ende~  
  
ANs: Yes, I know there's no real reason why Mako is there in the first place. Maybe I'll write a  
companion fic to this and make one. It all depends on the readers.  
  
"Fujimiya-Ore-wa-Kori-Otoko-Aya" means "Fujimiya-I-am-Ice-Man-Aya".  
  
I know Aya seems OOC, because he's *very* OOC. I did that cos otherwise there'd be no story.  
'Sides, he can't be *all* ice. If you've seen the very end of the series, you know what I'm  
talkin' about. 


End file.
